Wrapped In Red
by simplyshelbs16
Summary: How did Molly end up at 221B that night? What if Sherlock's phone didn't go off until a few minutes later at the Christmas party?


**_This Christmas, I'm gonna risk it all._**

 ** _This Christmas I'm not afraid to fall._**

 ** _So I'm at your door with nothing more_**

 ** _Than words I've never said._**

 ** _-Wrapped In Red, Kelly Clarkson_**

Molly was quite excited to be invited to a Christmas party…especially by Sherlock Holmes. He had been in the lab with her, complaining about John going off to his sister's for the holiday.

"What if there's a case I need him on?" he had asked in frustration.

"Well, I—"

"Nothing I can do and on top of that, he's insisting on this inane Christmas party, which by the way Molly, would you attend? It would make it all the more bearable."

And that's how she came to be invited. It was no secret how she felt about the impossible man, but she felt that he did not quite see her yet. This year was going to be different. Molly was going to make sure that he truly saw her, feelings laid bare, at this party.

She had laid out two dresses on her bed, one red and one black with glittery silver trimming. She briefly considered the red dress—a color that would surely make her feelings known—but ended up picking the black dress. Wearing that color on Christmas Eve would make her stand out even more. His gift—an old book of unsolved murder cases that Molly had read years ago and left her notes in the margins—was perfectly wrapped in a lovely shade of red that matched the lipstick she set out.

* * *

As she walked into 221B, her eyes lit up when they landed on Sherlock. He was being pouty like always, but she hoped one way or another that she could make him happy, if only for a few seconds. Despite John and Greg's attentions on her, Sherlock barely spared her a glance. Molly couldn't help but feel this was a mistake; she felt uncomfortable and feared that this night would not end too well after all. What if they laughed at her? Her mind was telling her to abort and yet, her heart told her to stand her ground.

When Sherlock finally began talking to her, she immediately wished he would stop. When would the humiliations end? He had never outright deduced her like this; like the way he did with others. He spoke of her compensating for the size of her mouth and breasts and she felt tears sting her eyes, but she'd be damned if she'd let herself cry in front of him. It was his turn to be shocked into submission when he read the tag on her gift to him. Apparently, he had thought she was doing this for some other man…could that possibly mean he was jealous?

"You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always, always," she told him, her heart breaking right in front of him.

"I am sorry. Forgive me," he spoke gently, his eyes finally meeting hers. He was being sincere in his apology which shocked the entire room of guests. Sherlock had never willingly apologized to anyone before. He was stepping closer and closer still. Molly felt she couldn't breathe. What was he doing? "Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper." His voice was full of affection that most thought him incapable of. Then his lips were on her cheek, warm and inviting.

He moved back, only a bit, and continued to look at her—truly look at her. And then he stepped closer again, ignoring the presence of others in the room. Molly opened her mouth to say something, anything, but then his lips were on hers. With her mouth already parted, his tongue tangled with hers experimentally. When he felt more comfortable, Sherlock deepened the kiss further, holding her in his arms. Molly's fingers found their way into his curls, gently grasping them, holding on for dear life.

When he broke their kiss, both gasping for air, his fingers trailed over her cheek affectionately. That was when the sound of another woman's moan filled the room.

"Uh, wha—that wasn't," Molly stammered.

"It was me," Sherlock said with a flash of annoyance on his face.

"Oh my God, really?" Greg asked in shock. Molly would have laughed had the situation not involved his ringtone for another woman being her erotic moan. He had taken another gift wrapped in red off of his mantel and shut himself in his room. When he came back out, she was quite ready to drink more wine when Sherlock pulled her aside.

"I need to go to the morgue, but I promise I'll be back for you," he told her.

"I'll go with you; that is—if you need me there," she offered.

"I always need you," he whispered, kissing her lips chastely. It was a good thing she brought a change of clothes.

* * *

Despite the embarrassing interruption, that Molly learned was because of Irene Adler who ended up not truly being dead, Christmas worked out better than she realistically hoped for. Especially since it ended with her and Sherlock snuggled up on the sofa. He did open his gift when they returned and loved it, thanking her for it. Molly's smile was even brighter when she woke up in his bed, Sherlock curled around her from behind, despite having not fallen asleep there.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Go to my youtube channel, SimplyShelbs16, and the most recent video is one I made for this fic


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